


Storage

by LenoraLeopoldIII



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, C137cest, Coercion, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Angst, Freeform, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Premature Ejaculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoraLeopoldIII/pseuds/LenoraLeopoldIII
Summary: Storage Rick never takes another Rick's original Morty, but this lost and desperate Morty was offering himself.(you don't necessarily need to have played Pocket Mortys to enjoy the Rick/Morty here)





	

**Author's Note:**

> After reading through the Mortydex in Pocket Mortys I was struck by how many sad Morty descriptions there are and felt the need to write this. I apologize for any roughness.

  
Storage Rick stopped nibbling his toothpick and slid the slightly abused and spittle dampened wood to one corner of his mouth with the ease of a gesture he's done a thousand times. He needed to free his thin lips for talking. With another easy gesture he slid his fingers through a Morty's hair and said, "You're, you're an affectionate little shit aren't ya?" Most things he did, he did easily.

Morty had been contentedly nuzzling against Storage Rick, but now he opened his big stupid eyes to look up at the older caretaker with a hurt little frown. Rick quirked his brow, confused at where the offense was before he realized and said again with a patient, and slightly patronizing, soothing smile, "A-an affectionate little...fella."

Emotional damage repaired, Morty smiled again and let his eyes shut, stupid long eyelashes fluttering against his stupid little cheeks.

Typically Storage Rick wasn't as sensitive to Morty emotions as he was being now. Don't get him wrong! When it came to Ricks, Storage Rick was friendlier than the typical Rick. He was probably friendlier than more of the Ricks that were considered friendly. Who fuckin knows, maybe if he wasn't Storage Rick with a perpetual frown he'd be Friendly Rick. But he didn't know. Sure you could measure the evil in a Rick, but no one really mentioned measuring the opposite. He scowled like any other Rick, felt indifference like any other Rick, was selfish like anyone else, but maybe he also kinda had the heart of Doofus Rick. It didn't really matter, he knew he had the brain of a Rick.

What he didn't have was his Morty. His Morty was dead, but melting into his side was a very much alive little Morty that apparently wasn't used to being called a little shit. Odd, all Mortys were little shits, and every Rick was shitty, so he didn't understand why this one was hurt by it. Tonight he was in a warm mood though, so he'd compromise on this issue.

The day had been typical for him, business was still booming, taking Morty deposits and dishing out Morty withdrawals. All the usual Mortys too, nothing Storage Rick hadn't seen a dozen times.

This little guy was the most noteworthy Morty he'd encountered in a few days though. He wasn't a flashy Unicorn Morty or a striking Frozen Morty, but he'd caught Rick's attention.

It was around dusk when Storage Rick had been leaning on his counter and staring blankly out at the citadel as the streetlights were blinking on and the traffic was calming. He could hear the purposeful shifting of a couple of his Business Mortys behind him, and his Guard Rick belched while standing against the flashy electro-fence, but otherwise no one had been speaking for quite awhile. Suddenly a Morty shuffled queerly and quietly into the pool of illumination cast by a streetlight.

His thin arms clutched themselves against his chest, rubbing in what looked to be a soothing gesture. When he turned and finally caught Storage Rick's casual gaze he stopped moving entirely, bottom lip pinched in his teeth. He seemed pinned down by Rick's eyes even though Rick knew they held no malice or threat. The Morty only shook slightly like a chihuahua and munched the raw in his mouth.

Rick looked around but didn't see an accompanying owner from where he stood. A couple seconds had ticked by and his eyebrow had ticked up while the lone Morty just stared at him. Eyebrow slammed back down, Rick chomped his wet toothpick and had tried to determine just what sort of Morty he'd be dealing with here. From the distance between them he couldn't tell, and that had bothered him. Of course he knew every Pocket Morty by now, and most he knew the instant he saw them, but this one took some thinking.

"Morty," he'd called out to him finally, "Come 'ere."

At that every Morty within earshot had perked up, assuming or wondering if they had been beckoned. Storage Rick hung his head and huffed a chuckle once he realized what he'd said could have applied to every Morty in existence.

He waved his hand dismissively but not unkindly at the Bunny Morty that had hopped over to the fence with an obvious eagerness, and the two Cowboy Mortys who walked over with a false bow-legged disinterest they might use to enter a saloon.

"Sorry, I meant the Morty....the-the Morty standing there," Rick elaborated vaguely, "Right in front of me," he clarified.

Most Mortys tended to be about Morty sized. This unknown one was noticeably, to Storage Rick's discerning eye, on the scrawny side and didn't seem to have a scrap of confidence or fight in his body. Since he'd noticed Rick his fists hadn't clenched in aggression, his chest hadn't puffed in bravado, his eyes only widened in awe now, and his cheeks flushed soon after.

  
Comically the smaller-than-average Morty pointed a finger at himself and forced out a, "M-me?"

Rick was instantly endeared, A smirk cracked on Rick's face while he nodded, and this grandson had come to him meekly.

Now, it's known every Morty seeks the approval of a Rick, regardless of dimension. The way storage Rick saw it, even a wild Morty running away from an unknown Rick was running to get to his original Rick. So it's easy enough to placate them here at the storage center just by being a Rick instead of a burbling slime alien.

There was no Storage Morty for Storage Rick. If Rick couldn't have his original Morty, he'd have all the fuckin Mortys. He never took a Rick's original Morty though, and if his resentment showed when he turned them away that was too fucking bad. He didn't owe an explanation. Unlike Salesman Rick he didn't believe the customer is always right. The customer is almost always an asshole and if he doesn't like how Storage Rick runs things he can go fuck himself....or his Morty.

After ushering the Morty onto a small stool behind the counter Rick gave brief instructions to his reliable business Mortys to finish up for the day and take it easy. They nodded sagely in unison and set off a chain of Morty reaction. Storage Rick "employed" some of the Mortys to help him run things rather than hiring more Ricks than necessary. He believed each dumbass Morty could have a use aside from being a shield or trying to rip other Mortys limb from limb. Sure that use could be almost entirely insignificant, but it was there. The Buff Mortys stopped carrying tagged-and-bagged Mortys to the warehouse, the Psychokinetic Mortys set down the Mortys they'd been sorting, Robot Morty clicked one last ear tag in place. and the Big Tongue Morty stopped sealing envelopes. A Sausage Morty had fallen and was wriggling uselessly in the far corner, but Rick just rolled his eyes and ignored it. He was sure some other Morty would help him out as they all headed to bed or the yard or dinner.

Now Rick had easily guided the odd little Morty into his small TV room and was attempting to figure out what his story was. He hadn't spoken yet, the shyness of a typical Morty amplified, and when he just sat next to him on the couch (the generic/familiar Smith couch) it surprised Rick how quickly the Morty curled into the man's side.

"You got an, an owner?" Rick asked in a monotone, curious but not excited really.

Morty shook his head solemnly.

"Y-you got a Rick?"

Again Morty only shook his head while Rick examined him thoroughly. With how easily his long fingers slid through the kid's hair he knew it wasn't a common Scruffy Morty. The shirt he wore was yellow, jeans blue. He had holes in his sleeves, but he wasn't filthy. Healed scratches covered parts of his cheeks, the scabs picked off too soon. and new angry ones criss-crossed his arms.

"You got a cat?" Rick asked, knowing the answer. At this question Morty's eyes got impossibly wet and he buried his face in Rick's armpit while shaking his head vigorously.

Rick now knew that this was a Stray Cat Morty that had lost it's cat. He was familiar with the type, Mortys that for some dumbass reason thought their Rick was trapped inside a cat. He had a few, and they were constantly fighting to cradle an unwilling cat that almost definitely didn't have the brain of a human. Depending on his mood Rick found it either exasperatingly idiotic, or hilarious to watch them addressing the cat as though it was a Rick.

Right now he felt a mix of exasperation and pity and loneliness.

"Jesus M-Morty, calm down Morty its not, it isn't a big deal." He said to comfort him, but this made the kid sob harder into him and now Rick wondered if he'd forgotten to put deodorant on that morning. One hand patted Morty's head while the other guided his flask to his mouth, noticing just how not-sober he was and deciding to get drunker.

"It's not a problem, " he pushed the kid away enough to look into his scratched face and tried to give him a sympathetic, if asymmetric, smile, "I'm a Rick."

Morty snuffled, but it must have been just what he needed to hear because a little smile wobbled onto his lips. Rick wrapped his arm around the kid's bony shoulder again and kicked his feet up onto the table with a sense of a job well done. He'd puzzled out what type of Morty this was, and temporarily fixed the issue of the kid being Rickless. His conscious felt cleaner, not that he'd done anything wrong recently, but he was fairly sure every Rick had a permanent guilt that weighed them down no matter how they dealt with it.

Rick's chest felt light, almost buoyant from comforting Morty. Without thinking his fingers deftly twitched a few strands of white cat hair off Morty's shirt before turning back to the unobtrusive television.

"I-I love you R-Rick," Morty said quietly and with an almost sickening cautious hope.

Without turning Rick easily responded, "Love you too Mort."

It had come to him easily enough because it was the truth, but he'd also made it a personal policy to say so to any Morty that said it to him. If a Pizza Morty delightfully said I love you, he said it back. If a Punk Morty begrudgingly said I love you, he said it back. Just yesterday one of his Business Mortys (he honestly couldn't have told you which one though) had pulled him aside to discreetly inform Storage Rick that he loved him, and without hesitation he'd said it back.

So apparently this lost Morty was just going to pretend Storage Rick was his original Rick. Maybe his mind was a bit broken, because this was definitely the easy way out emotionally. It had to be easier to pretend he hadn't been abandoned, even easier than pretending a stray cat was his grandfather.

Rick had seen some shit, and in all his life experience with Mortys he knew they'd been forced by their Ricks to see that same shit. Some of them needed to hear they were loved by someone that looked so similar to the grandfather they almost all wanted approval from. Storage Rick was running a business and running it well, but some nights he could find himself briefly wallowing in disgust at how easily the other versions of himself could just collect and dump Mortys like they were pokemon or something. Maybe he was the worst Rick though, enabling it and encouraging it. That disgust was always a quick splash though, never enough for him to close the doors and stop taking in scared, beat up, unwanted Mortys.

The little Morty stretched up to peck Rick on the cheek, craning his neck to an uncomfortable degree. Rick had been allowing his eyelids to droop, Now they snapped open as he turned to look at Morty with a confusion that caused his toothpick to tumble from his mouth and bounce down his shirt to instantly become lost in the couch cushions.

Morty tilted his head to the side and kissed Rick full on the mouth now, with an already tender pout from worriedly chewing the sensitive skin of his lips. Achingly slow he petted his moist little tongue across Rick's lower lip, causing Rick's jaw to sigh open in delayed distress. His tongue would have found its way inside if Rick wasn't pushing Morty away at the same moment.

"What the fuuuck?" Rick asked, holding Morty by both shoulders.

"Love you Rick," Morty said bashfully, looking down and away but still with that small smile. He ran one hand up Rick's thigh with the smoothness of a gesture he's done a thousand times more than chewing a toothpick. He found the subtle bulge of Rick's cock and tenderly squeezed him through his pants. His intent couldn't be clearer.

"I love you too Morty," Rick was saying automatically even as he quickly plucked Morty's hand off his leg in horror.

Contrary to what some other Ricks believed, Storage Rick wasn't some sort of pimp, and this wasn't some sort of Morty brothel. Of course there were plenty of Ricks that loved their Mortys in more than a grandfatherly way, and Rick had turned away plenty of that type without twitching an eye because that literally wasn't his business. He couldn't judge, he understood the appeal while never exploring it and every Rick was guaranteed kinky. Guaran-fuckin-teed.

Rick allowed his eyes to sweep over this Morty, asking himself if he liked what he saw. Morty still hadn't noticed Rick's discomfort, so he laced his fingers through the hand Rick had used to stop the sexual advance. His face now had the Morty equivalent of 'bedroom eyes' and he looked at Rick through fluttering lashes.

It's been years now since he opened up shop, and even though he'd joked with other ricks that mortys always stayed the same age while Ricks kept getting older, it wasn't true. Mortys grew up, and quite a few were hurtling toward being young men by now. Also contrary to common knowledge, even same type Mortys weren't always entirely or eerily identical.

This stray cat Morty was subtle proof if you cared to pay attention. His eyes were larger, but not in a feminine way, with a warm brown iris that held a pupil so easily penetrated. He almost hysterically wanted to warn the kid about Eyehole Man, but didn't think this Morty was even capable of humor right now. He didn't look like he thought the world was a shitty place, maybe just a lonely place. His hair didn't shine but it was a bit longer than the boyish length most Mortys maintained. his sideburns had grown down and swept forward to get caught by his clammy sweat in a romantic pose on his cheek. Rick would have pushed it back, but knew it wouldn't stay tucked behind his ear with the rest of it. Mortys lips weren't thin like rick's, if he pouted they would crease and plump, but if Rick did they would only thin further. His mouth hadn't exactly been made for kissing, crooked teeth and a restless tongue and too much saliva crawling down his lower lip. Christ, when had he stopped caring about that?

Rick passively watched the Stray Cat Morty bring their joined hands up to rub one cheek against the back of Rick's. He was fascinated.

"What the fu, what the fuuuuck Morty. Who, who the fuck was your Rick?" he said, not stopping the kid but not encouraging him either. The back of a hand wasn't nearly as sensitive as the palm, but he had to ignore the warmth all the same.

Morty was confused and hurt, natural for a Morty. With his faint eyebrows turned up in concern he asked, "I love y-you?" and squeezed his fingers in a brief pulse that went straight to Rick's heart, "love you Rick?"

"Jeez Morty, what's your dimension?" Rick asked as though that would explain it all.

"I love you." was Morty's only response, his eyes welling up again.

"Holy shit, i-i-is that it?" Rick said stunned. He used his remaining hand to cradle the other side of Morty's jaw, turning his head as though inspecting it and inspecting it as though he would be able to see into it. "Is that a-all you can say Morty?"

Clearly ashamed, Morty shook his head but also shrugged, "No...I just haven't seen you in so, so long. I don't kn-know what to say Rick."

Rick was still trying to catch up to what was happening, he had never had a Morty come on to him like this, "Were you raised by-by cats or something, were you raised by cats Morty?" But Rick knows this Morty wasn't raised by cats, probably just had a Rick that taught him how to 'be a good boy for grandpa Rick'.

Rick decides he feels good about this. He feels good because he'd never groomed his grandson for sexual use. Of course he feels bad that his dick has started getting hard, but overall he's feeling good. This Morty was so dumb and desperate for his Rick that he believed or was pretending Storage Rick was his own.

He honestly doesn't want to think about any of this. His mind skitters away from calculating just how many Ricks must have sex with their Mortys. Smoothing Morty's hair, maintaining reassuring eye contact and then squeezing his shoulders, Rick says, "H-Hey, you don't gotta do that champ." And molds Morty back into his side on the couch, feeling a little lame because he called him 'champ'. No one was a champion here. Rick found himself attracted to this lost Morty, begrudgingly aroused by him.

"I'm sorry R-Rick," Morty whispered, pressing his face hard into Rick's neck and mashing the cartilage of his nose, "I missed you."

Rick hurt the ones he loved, no matter the dimension, but this Morty hurt him more than he thought possible anymore. But he could be a better Rick he reasoned. He could be better than the Rick that had probably only trained this little Morty to service him. That Rick could go fuck himself for abandoning this loving Morty. Rick would be better than the Rick this Morty was pretending he was. He crushed his grandson closer, took a steadying breath and gave up.

"I missed you too Morty."

This time when Morty's tongue reached out and licked a small stripe across the strained column of Rick's throat he just shivered and it must have been encouraging. The next stripe was longer, with more saliva and making it's way to the shell of his ear. Only days ago Rick had drunkenly licked the hairless and thin skin of his wrist to find out what he tasted like, but he'd only tasted his own tongue. He almost hopes he doesn't taste bad to Morty.

Pushing his long fingers through Morty's hair again kicked up a charming and clean scent that Rick took deep into his lungs. When he tried to inhale the fragrance again his nose also caught the stubborn smell of lonely burnt popcorn from the night before. He decided then to just let Morty do what he wanted or needed to do with his grandfather. Only his hands were moving as he stared straight ahead and tried to see himself as something of a sexual martyr.

Morty continued licking, and it almost felt feline except for the excess spit. He was breathing like he didn't want Rick to notice he was capable of it, like he might offend Rick by doing it. Minutes passed of Rick acting as though this wasn't happening or affecting him. Rick still stared at the TV as it flashed pictures that didn't mean anything anymore. Every part of his attention was entirely on that shy tongue and his now slightly chafed and perverse neck.

Morty began trying to coax Rick to turn his mouth to him, licking Rick's jaw like he could physically turn it with tongue alone. He was perched on his knees on the couch now, his entire body faced toward Rick. His small shaking hands were both on Rick's leg allowing him to remain stable while craning up to the taller man. Rick was cracking, and he was honestly surprised at how easily he started wanting to fuck a Morty when he never had before really.

When Morty sighed a small overwhelmed sigh it made Rick groan an overwhelmed groan and finally turn his head to face the kid. Morty's tongue dragged listlessly against his cheek. Now Rick was the one needing and wanting. After cautiously analyzing the teen's hopeful and aroused face for any hesitation he shut his eyes and bowed his head to slide his long tongue into Morty's waiting mouth. Rick had skipped any close-lipped pecks for the direct sin, but he knew he wouldn't skip the self loathing later.

Morty's mouth was a little dry now, but Rick had enough saliva for the both of them. The kid seemed desperate for it even though it couldn't have possibly tasted good. Morty gasped and practically purred when Rick pushed at the back of his head, mashing them closer even though Morty wouldn't possibly pull away from this. Rick petted the velvet underside of Morty's tongue with broad dipping strokes, trying to savor everything he had attempted to ignore. Morty's floundered nervously, unsure where to go in his own mouth.

The younger man's tongue went entirely dead while he reached to the front of his grandfather's jeans. Rick didn't care, he was enjoying this too much. He pushed as much of his slick muscle into Morty's mouth as he could, writhing in the warmth. Belatedly he noticed the unskilled fingers at his zipper. After a few moments of them seeming like they were trying to figure out how pants worked, Rick reluctantly withdrew. He canted his hips up so they would be easier to unzip. but he refused to do it himself out of a flash of shame that rarely hit any Rick. How else could he pretend that he was only allowing Morty to do this.

Button popped and zipper down Morty reached into the jeans with one hand and tried to ineffectively push them down with the other. Rick raised his boney ass so the pants and his old underwear could rustle down, they were so worn and never meant to be seen by anyone else. He let gravity take his hips again, and when he fell back down onto the couch his dick bounced violently, stopping only to twitch. When he looked at Morty's flushed face he saw his eyes watching Rick's dick, hand hovering near but not touching yet. His blown pupils flicked up to make eye contact and Rick saw the distinct and baffling ask for permission they held.

"Fuck," was all Rick could say, but it was an answer, and he looked down to watch Morty grasp him.

His dick was fairly typical for a human dick, and while his girth wasn't impressive his length almost was. Morty just squeezed him before pulling up the hot silky skin of the shaft, coaxing precum to bead at the eager slit of his tip. Rick groaned, and then groaned again when Morty swept his thumb across to smear the fluid he caused.

He felt Morty watching his face again so he looked back up to his eyes before clenching them shut briefly at the stimulation. Rick knew Morty wasn't a handsome teen, but he found him beautiful at this moment and felt dumb for thinking so.

Morty blushed further by the intensity of Rick's returned gaze and began spreading the precum without looking away. Eventually the teen couldn't handle it and looked to the side before looking at Rick's lap again. Hesitantly he leaned down and kissed the tip of Rick's dick, and while It caused hardly any sensation the intent of the gesture made Rick leak even more pre. Morty clasped him steadily where Rick's blue-grey pubic hair grew before guiding the tip to his lips. He pushed the desperate looking head into his mouth and immediately started licking clumsily.

Rick could only hiss and instantly he knew he wouldn't be able to last long at Morty's eager pace. His head fell back but his hand remained petting Morty's hair. At every wet noise Morty made Rick struggled not to thrust up. Morty's mouth couldn't fit much in, but his hand worked the rest and it was far from the worst blowjob he'd ever received.

After only a few minutes Rick grunted, "Morty. y-youre gonna make grandpa cum." He'd meant this as a warning, but it only caused Morty to look up and suck faster, harder, it was definitely his intent. He saw Morty's nose was running slightly, his entire scratched face working to make Rick climax.

"You want me to cum in your mouth Morty?" he asked desperately even though he was fairly sure, "You, you want my cum in you?"

Morty hummed, eyes wistful while he bobbed up and down sloppily.

I-it's gonna be a lot," he growled, losing composure but still warning, "You're gonna make me shoot a huge load Morty."

Morty suddenly remembered to cup Rick's balls and when he felt them begin to clench tighter he lunged forward to take as much of Rick in as possible. Rick sharply pulled Morty's hair, causing him to wince and release the organ from his mouth with a crude squelch. Morty's face was twisted with confusion at the sudden halt, but still smoldered with lust.

"Gonna make you feel good too Morty, as good as-as....ugh, as good as you're making me." Rick growled with carnal appreciation, his tone rich with promise that made Morty's eyes widen.

"Fuuuck, Morty," Rick said breathlessly, unclenching his fist from the kid's hair and returning to the reverent caresses of his scalp. His eyes found the still straining erection trapped in Morty's jeans and reached for the buckled zipper.

"So good for me Morty," Rick mumbled when he finally reached inside to grab Morty's smaller dick through the thin material of his boxers. When they made eye contact again Rick knew with certainty that this wasn't how things had gone in the past. Morty's original Rick didn't do this.

"Tell me you love me Morty," Rick ordered, or begged, with painful longing. Morty's mouth was open but he couldn't even stutter. His eyebrows were turned up in distress and adoration, and if eyebrows coud say 'I love you' thats what they'd look like. His arousal flared so sharp on his face before it strained sweetly and he cried out, cumming without Rick even pulling his dick into the open.

Genuinely caught off guard, Rick could only watch as a wet spot bloomed through the material. He continued to rub and feel the pulsing organ until Morty's breathing slowed and he slumped. For a few moments they both just breathed, Morty's hair falling forward to conceal his expression. Rick stopped himself from remarking on the premature ejaculation. He'd meant it when he said he wanted to make Morty feel good, and didn't want to embarrass him for it.

Finally Morty bowed over Rick's lap to take his throbbing cock in hand again. He stroked slowly with what seemed like reverence, and it was enough to bring Rick back to the brink of climax. There was nothing holding him back after how quickly Morty had cum. Swiftly Morty pushed Rick's cock back into the heat of his mouth and worshiped the head with his tongue for a few short minutes.

"I'm gonna cum," was all Rick could eventually manage. Just as before Morty cupped Rick's balls, cradling them and encouraging them to tighten for their release.

The first pulse of cum still startled Morty, causing him to falter for a moment before he continued licking and began swallowing. Rick lost some control, thrusting a bit too sharply, and grunted with each pump of his thick white load. Rick was panting and still paralyzed as he watched Morty try and fail to contain all the cum he'd been given. He sputtered and was forced to take Rick's cock out of his mouth after he gagged audibly. Without seeming to think, Morty kind of just let what was left to dribble out of his open mouth and back onto Rick's softening member before sitting up in a daze.

When he could move again Rick abruptly tucked the both of them back into their pants and then maneuvered Morty to sit across his lap. He could cut the kid some slack about the mess. He could ignore the consequences of what just happened between them for now. He needed to keep them close. He needed to keep pretending that this was his Morty.

"Thank you," Morty murmured and was already close to dozing even as saliva and seed started to dry on his face.

Rick exhaled and kissed Morty's hair because he felt like it was the right thing to do. When he shifted to try for an even more comfortable position on the couch his backside was suddenly and painfully stabbed. He yelped angrily and startled Morty. Growling, Storage Rick reached underneath himself to locate the cause and pulled out the toothpick that had disappeared earlier. He glared at it before flicking the traitorous wood out into the room, not caring where it fell in his annoyance. He knew he was probably setting himself up to be stabbed by it again sometime later.

Rick sighed and settled into the couch again, signalling they should both just sleep.

"I love you, you little shit." He said, yet leisurely he recalled that this Morty was hurt by that endearment.

Before he could decide whether or not to correct himself, Morty was already saying, "I love you too Rick."

**Author's Note:**

> Stray Cat Morty - This Morty believes his Rick is trapped inside the mind of a cat. (His Rick is actually winning an inter-dimensional game of hide and seek.)  
> Thank you so much for reading.


End file.
